Taken Care Of
by Ygrayne
Summary: Of being the youngest, and of being a Queen. And, perhaps most of all, of being Lucy. One-shot.


_**Disclaimer: I own nothing – one of the main reasons why I always feel a little depressed after watching a Chronicles of Narnia film. **_

' – and, Lucy, make sure you don't tear your skirt, and tuck up your dress if you want to go in the water. Don't go too far out when you swim. It's dangerous. Ed, you be careful with her, got it? And Lucy –'

'I know, I know! You sound like Mum.'

Edmund fidgets and glances out of the window for the umpteenth time. Almost at the very edge of Cair Paravel lies the smooth beach shining in the sunset, the frothing waves lazily lapping against its shores. Just how long is Susan going to keep them away from it? Lucy, impatient for once, struggles to get away from Susan's too-gentle, too-motherly hands putting the little coat around her. Lucy doesn't _need_ a coat, for heaven's sake. Sometimes older sisters can be very troublesome.

Susan smiles down at Lucy. 'I'll have to be a kind of mum to you two till we go back to England.' Her smile droops a little, vanishes. The mood suddenly turns gloomy, for what must be the hundredth time today. 'I know we've got to go back sometime, and yet I don't want to…'

Edmund groans, grabs Lucy's hand and half-drags her away, she scampering on her small feet to keep up with him. Run out of the castle, her skirts flapping about her legs, running back into their world of fun and laughter and this beautiful Narnian seashore just waiting to be explored. Edmund and Lucy have never been to a beach before, not in England, and bothersome elder siblings can only delay them for so long.

Smooth-scrubbed slabs of stone under Lucy's feet – the Narnians turning to smile after them as they race past – giving way to grass, she shrieking with laughter as their pace gets faster and dizzily faster, and then finally to sand. They flop down, exhausted and laughing. Lucy kicks off her shoes, in complete disregard for their fine workmanship, and wriggles her toes ecstatically in the fine white sand. At her side Edmund is doing the same thing, their clothing fanning out untidily around them, feeling the smooth sand shifting under their bodies.

'That was rude,' she says, laughing. 'Poor Susan!' She rolls over in the sand, probably ruining her dress (though neither of them care) and scuffles a small cloud of dust-like grains over them both. He grins at her.

'You wanted to run off. I could tell.'

'Did not.'

'Did too.'

Lucy sticks out her tongue at him. How nice that their first trip to a beach should be in Narnia. She lies back on the beach, pillowing her small head on her arms, and is happy. As she almost always is.

The setting sun is framed between Edmund's raised knees. They watch the sky, painted with shadow-purples and liquid fire, almost too beautiful to bear; the waves swell and break at their feet.

'D'you think Susan will feel bad?' Lucy asks, suddenly anxious.

'No she won't. She'll just scream at us when we get back.'

_Us_. The word sounds good on his lips.

'I don't like it when they nag at me like that,' she says plaintively. She is not irritated – it is near-impossible for Lucy to be irritated – but she is, at the very least, injured. 'They don't do it to _you_. Just because I'm the youngest. They needn't treat me like a little kid; I'm a Queen!'

Edmund snorts. 'We just got crowned three days ago.'

'But I _am_. They don't have to treat me like a child.'

'You are a child.'

'Says who? You're just two years older than me!'

'You're still the younge –'

She pounces on him. Edmund rolls away, jumps up and runs down the beach into the sea, closely pursued by Lucy, and flings sand and water in her face. The sea swirls around their legs, their clothes completely spoiled, as they splash and try to duck each other's heads under the water, laughing. The waves roll out and roll in again as they wrestle, and somehow Lucy is getting farther and farther out, and a great blue roller sweeps up and looks as if it is going to carry her far out into the sea…

'Whoa,' he says, and half-picks her up and plants her unceremoniously back on the beach. His feet sink into the wet sand as he trudges up towards her. Lucy spits out a bit of sea water and examines her dress, drenched in water and spotted with sand.

'I'm soaked through. Maybe I should just take this off…'

'Aslan! No.'

'But I'm all wet –'

'That's your problem, I know you haven't got anything on underneath so _keep your dress on_!'

'Oh, not you too!' Lucy snaps, annoyed at last. 'Nag and nag and nag. I hate feeling small and helpless! I hate being the youngest!'

Edmund punches her gently on the thigh. She squirms beneath him, burrowing angrily into the sand.

'S'not so bad being the youngest,' he says after a time. 'People take care of you more. And you know you like that.'

'I do not,' Lucy retorts.

'Yes you do, don't deny it.'

'Do not!'

'Do too!'

'_Do not_!'

'And,' he continues blithely, 'you get to pick things first and Peter gives you the best bits of meat and Susan buys you sweets, and everyone kicks up a great fuss when you get lost or something. They worry over you more than they do for me. But maybe that's because _I'm _not stupid enough to get lost…'

'Edmund. Pevensie.'

'It's true and you like it that way, you do!'

Lucy scowls at him for a moment, her small childish face screwed up in one of her frown-pouts. Then, abruptly, changing the subject, she springs up.

'I'll race you down the beach!'

Edmund leaps to his feet and they sprint side by side across the firm-packed sand, their soiled clothing billowing out in the breeze. Lucy screams with laughter as her small legs outpace his longer strides, and she is running diagonally downwards into the sea and the water foams around her sand-caked feet and splashes up into her face. And then Edmund catches up to her and yanks her back every time she goes too near a dangerous wave, and runs on her left to stay between Lucy and the surging water. Making sure she stays safe.

Lucy doesn't mind. Because, say what she likes, she _is_ the youngest and she likes being taken care of.


End file.
